Ceremonials
by jcforever19
Summary: A collection of one-shots based on songs from Florence & The Machine's second album, Ceremonials. Some songs from her first album Lungs, will also be included. Each chapter will focus on one song.
1. Only If For A Night

**Hello everyone! This is my new collection of J/C one-shots (how original) based on songs from Florence + The Machine's album, Ceremonials. It's my favorite album of all time and I highly recommend it. A few songs from her first album, Lungs will also be thrown in!**

**Note that none of these chapters will be related to each other.**

**This first scene features Jimmy and Cindy in some sort of apocalyptic heat spell. Oddly enough, I wrote the piece before I picked a song as inspiration. It actually matches pretty darn well. Enjoy, and leave feedback!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Jimmy Neutron and affiliated characters, nor do I own any of the music by Florence+TM.**

* * *

_And the only solution was to stand and fight_  
_And my body was bruised and I was set alight_  
_But you came over me like some holy rite_  
_And although I was burning, you're the only light_  
_Only if for a night._

**_\- Only If For A Night_**

* * *

The stars sparkled like minuscule pomegranate seeds in the distance.

Cindy sat next to Jimmy, her knees dirtied by the rotten remains of soil and glades of grass. Jimmy looked pensive, sad even. His brilliant sapphire eyes were the one savory indulgence the world had to offer anymore. The cool blue ocean of his gaze spilled over her, neutralizing the sting of the lava ridden conflagration engulfing her whole.

The heat spell hadn't even been Neutron's making. He'd once brought back the ice age, but this stint was all the universe's doing. In the beginning, he had worked countless hours in the lab, trying to come up with ways to bring the seemingly interminable summer to an early close, but it grew impossible. The longer he toiled, the more energy he lost. The image of his defeated countenance the day he gave up on trying to beat nature was imprinted on her memory with stunning clarity— beads of sweat dripping down his neck, hair drenched, wrench grasped loosely in his left hand, lips hung over with fatigue. Perhaps it was the incessant warmth, or the way the mere sight of him sent her heart pounding, but she'd been dizzy with lust. She recalled the oddest of desires in that moment— the desire to sweep him into her arms and kiss his damp lips until they both burned to ash.

She hadn't gone through with it, of course. Cindy never went through with anything of the sort any longer. Not without some serious consideration beforehand, anyway. But today was another story entirely. The sun loomed in the sky, a dangerous blazing infusion of vermilion death. It threatened to set everyone alight. Somehow staring at it gave her a fiercely new courage. She wasn't sure she could tame her thoughts anymore, and maybe what was more troubling was the possibility that she wasn't sure if she wanted to any longer. If the world was coming to a premature end, then what would it matter if her affections were misplaced?

Thinking up these wild notions were one thing, but believing them was another. Yet, despite her careful reticence, she felt compelled to act on her inclinations. She culled the ever pregnant pause that hung between them by reaching for his hand and clasping it in her own. An act of planned rebellion. His head immediately turned, and he stared at her reproachfully. Cindy gulped down her inhibitions. She couldn't turn back now. A few seconds of silence passed before she interlaced their fingers tightly. He reacted with a sharp intake of breath.

"Cindy?" He looked perplexed, maybe even the slightest bit angry. Who was he to command her? To tell her they could no longer afford these kind of exchanges when there was so clearly nothing left to pursue but togetherness?

She shifted closer to him. Her breath hitched as she offered him a gentle kiss on his parched lips. She'd been starved of love for too long. She could no longer handle the crackling spark between them. Infernos were manageable, but kindling was unbearable.

He looked curiously thoughtful. He looked up for the shortest moment. The sky covered the earth; an odious carmine blanket of red-hot cinders. Then, he turned his attention back to her, with her cropped blonde hair, once long and luscious, now cut short for practicality. Her emerald green eyes flashed vibrantly. He was torn. It was dangerous to play with fire like this. But it was a risk he was willing to take, given the state of things. There was no longer time for mockeries or ministrations.

In a swift, fluid movement, he stroked her cheek, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Her eyes grew wide as drew her closer and closed the gap between them, boldly crashing his mouth against hers. Cindy set a hand to his chest to feel his heartbeat. With a single kiss, he'd managed to both bring her back to the land of the living and banish the two of them to a private hell of melded body heat. Every labored breath they took from here on out would cost them, but it was a price worth paying. To die of their own volition...to die at the hands of their sweet, blossoming yearning...was a beautiful, beautiful, thing...


	2. Breaking Down

**This takes place directly after one of my favorite episodes: Win, Lose, Kaboom. **

**Quick recap of the plot points relevant to comprehending this: one of the tasks the gang must undertake in order to save Earth on an intergalactic gameshow involves an obstacle course wherein their opponents lead them into believing there is a shortcut. The shortcut turns out to be a deadly illusion that messes with their heads and Cindy's quick thinking saves them. By the time they are conscious, their opponents have almost completed the race. Teamwork leads them to the finish line, but not before they go through one last lethal hurdle that almost claims Jimmy's life. When Jimmy almost dies, Cindy panics and is the only one to rush forward to save him in what is one of my favorite moments in this show's history. **

**I've always thought about that subtle but death-defying moment and how much Jimmy really does mean to Cindy, so I decided to write this. I'm rather proud of it. I hope you enjoy it too!**

* * *

_All alone_  
_Even when I was a child._

_I've always known_  
_There was something to be frightened of._

**_\- Breaking Down_**

* * *

Cindy lay awake in bed, staring at the ceiling. Everything in her room was a garish shade of pink and it made her sick to her stomach. Just thinking of the hell they'd been through was enough to send her head spinning. How many more times could a couple of kids single-handedly save the world? How many more times until their luck ran out? She rolled over on one side, and clutched a throw pillow to her chest to ward off the gnawing fear in her heart. It seemed these 'adventures', if one chose to assign them such a name, had more effect on her than anyone else. She resented the anxiety that came with each new mishap borne of Neutron's stupidity. How she loathed him…despised him…and yet…Before she could complete the thought, her eyes began to droop shut. Her mind was clouded with fatigue and her body relished the safety of a warm bed. Slowly succumbing to her sleepiness, she slipped into a state of temporary unconsciousness…

* * *

_Jimmy's standing next to her on the ledge. Her heart is pounding like a hammer in her ribcage. The zombie versions of their parents are seconds away from destroying them or killing them, and she just knows they have to jump. The pure shock will release them from the chains of the dream. Her gut tells her this is the right thing to do, and it's never been wrong before. At least in regards to matters of life and death…_

_She's easily convinced the other three kids. Libby, Sheen and Carl clasp their hands in a show of blind faith. Only he seems unconvinced. His blue eyes dart behind him, and a flash of fear passes through his features before he looks at Cindy as if everything he's ever known is a lie, a fabrication. _

_She just wants him to take her hand. believe in her for once. She hasn't given him reason to trust her, but she wants to live to see another day and she wants so badly for him to take whatever twisted version of an olive branch she can offer with this show of instinctual bravery…_

_They are running low on time. The doors burst open behind them, the adults making their way towards the children. Jimmy bites his lip and finally grabs her outstretched hand. They collectively jump. His grip on her hand is iron-like, enough to numb her fist for another hour. But if a bruised hand is the price she must pay for his faith, she will gladly pay it. Her eyes are closed as they descend into never-ending blackness, only to land headfirst into a landscape of red dust. Her eyes flutter open and catch the light. He glances at her shyly before helping himself up. She offers him a nod of respect and his lips betray the slightest hint of a smile before a frown overtakes his mouth. The Brains are ascending the steps to the finish-line..._

* * *

Cindy's eyes flew open in panic. She rolled over, groaning. Why wouldn't her brain stop? She just wanted some peace, some repose. Rest wasn't something she got too much of. This was a prime opportunity to enjoy the merits of having experienced a life-threatening situation unfold before her. Her mother couldn't possibly resume her academic crusade for another day or two at the very least and until then, she would do well to take every minute of respite that came her way. Forcing her eyes shut, she lulled herself back into a state of slumber…

* * *

_Everyone has managed to jump through the clawing port of hell. Neutron and her are holding up the last crowbar. She gazes over her shoulder, catching a glimpse of the cotton of his soft red shirt. Tension grips her as she realizes they can't both go. Someone has to stay behind and hold the bar in._

_She opens her mouth to protest. But he spurs her on, his voice taking a tone she's rarely heard in all their time together. "Just go, Vortex!"_

_She throws him one last look before taking a leap of death through the infernal device. She lands on her stomach, and looks down to see blood trickling down her knee. She's dealt with worse. Right now, she just wants Neutron to be on the same side as them. As her. Libby, Carl and Sheen have begun running up the steps, but Cindy has eyes for no one but Neutron. His eyes are unmistakably filled with fear. He gulps and launches himself through. Cindy's heart is pulsating wildly in her chest. Suddenly, she watches in horror as one of the claws drags him back by the skin of his spine. Terror grips her whole body and she runs forward, leaving behind her laborious pretense of indifference. _

_"__Neutron!" She shrieks his name as if that alone can save him. She seizes the cold metal wildly and it gives her scars across her arm. She drags his body through the arch, but the claw, in one last, desperate movement, tows him backwards yet again. Cindy lets out a bloodcurdling scream. Her lifeblood stolen from her in the matter of a few nanoseconds—_

_His body lies helpless, writhing on the hard ground, and Cindy can't help but let out a wail. Libby, Sheen, and Carl have already begun running back down and she hears the echoes of victory music playing in what seems like the far distance as the Brains squirm to the finish line. She drops to her knees. What does it matter anyway? What kind of world is worth existing sans Jimmy?_

* * *

Cindy awoke in a fit of cold sweat. Her pillows were wet with perspiration and tears. She hadn't even known she'd been crying in her sleep. She looked out the window. The sun was starting to rise outside, and the sky was in that volatile phase between dark and light, night and day. She breathed in and out to calm herself down and slowly rested her back against the headboard of her bed.

She persisted in looking out the window. She suddenly realized that the boy genius's bedroom lights were on. His curtains were drawn the slightest bit, enough to alert her to the fact that he wasn't sleeping in his bed. Then, out of the blue, his big head appeared, half concealed by the curtains. His expression was ambiguous, but weariness was readily present in his countenance. He cocked his head to the side in a sort of curiosity and she realized she must look absolutely ghastly. The thought of him seeing her like this brought a blush to her cheeks, but she tried to suppress it. Getting out of bed, she stood by the window and propped her head on her hands. He sighed deeply and yawned before pointing downwards. She got the hint and minutes later, she had slid down the ragged tiles on the part of the roof outside her room. She figured a few more cuts wouldn't be too much of a burden given her condition.

Cindy's first thought as her feet touched the cool grass on her lawn was that she had just dreamt of an alternate universe in which the boy in front of her was dead. The idea was enough to make her rather weak at the knees. He noticed her vulnerability and rushed forward to help her.

"Always the show-off, Neutron." She smirked at him but berated herself internally for her coldness. It seemed it had become an impenetrable mechanism over the years.

Jimmy chose to ignore her comment and instead looked at her, worried. "Are you okay, Cindy?"

She softened at the use of her first name, and straightened herself out, standing on her own two feet now.

She contemplated lying, but her appearance would speak volumes more than her words ever could. She decided to pitch it all on the toss. She had to anyways, and if she had to do it prematurely, screw it. Circumstances had dictated even that last entity which she thought she could control: her walls of steel.

She nodded her head no. She fought the urge to spit out the venom creeping along the edges of her tongue. _We just went to the seventh circle of hell and back, almost got killed and came close to losing the planet millions call home. Of course I'm not okay, Neutron. _But she kept silent.

"I'm not okay either." He admitted sheepishly, putting a hand behind his head to stroke the hair at the base of his neck.

She almost wanted to tell him everything. Just spit it all out. How petrifying it might have been to lose him, how horribly wrong things could have gone, how affected she would be by his absence, but she can barely say a word. Her lips are sealed. Glued shut by trepidation and an all encompassing fear of rejection.

He took her hand and her eyes widened. Then, he offered a raw confession. "Sometimes I wonder if- if we'll be quite as fortunate every time. If I'll end up getting us killed one day."

Her grip immediately tightened around his fingers. "Jimmy-we...we need you."

It wasn't until after he let her simple words sink in, that he realized she was echoing the very first kind words she'd ever said to him. The words that had fueled him in what might have been the lowest point of his life.

"You're a good guy, you know?" She whispered. Then, to save some face, she rolled her eyes. "Even though your enormous ego almost ballooned into an unstoppable force of nature up there."

A small smile occupied his lips for the first time in hours and hours.

Some unknown courage had taken over Cindy and she finally pushed the moment to its peak.

"I know I voted you off, but that doesn't mean-" The words caught in her throat. "That doesn't mean I don't care. That I didn't care." Her voice was so low, he could barely hear her. But he did.

"I know." He squeezed her hand and gazed out at the patches of orange and yellow starting to thread across the sky. They were silent for a moment or two before he ventured to speak.

"And Cindy?"

"Mhmm?"

"Thank you." His words carried an infinite gratitude, and Cindy was filled with relief and a sense of salvation.

"For what?"

"For saving my skin. And everyone's else's."

She took a moment to let it register.

"I hope you'll always be around to tame my ego a little. We need you too."

Cindy's heart swelled with contentment and a sense of utter belonging.

"Of course, that doesn't give you free reign to continue mocking me, but it's a start."

Cindy let a tiny grin escape her as the poisonous fear in her veins started to dissipate. With a new day came new possibilities. New walls to break down, new love to break open. There was always hope, and he gave her the most infinite kind of hope there was. Yes, they'd come close to annihilation, to meeting that great lord- Death, to losing everything. But they hadn't, and even though the idea of survival becoming some sort of miracle was hewn from a foolish sort of mettle, it gave them some amount of solace. However, not even the concept of survival could spur them onwards like their odd, yet strangely evolving connection could...

* * *

_You know that I can see you coming from the edge of the room_  
_Creeping in the streetlight_  
_Holding my hand in the pale gloom_  
_Can you see it coming now?_


	3. Heavy In Your Arms

**The idea behind this was some sort of deep betrayal on Cindy's part. I love the Eustace/Jimmy/Cindy betrayal storyline on the show simply because it gives viewers such insight into Cindy's character. I wanted to keep the actual reason for the betrayal vague so readers could come to their own conclusions. Maybe Cindy sold some important secret/blueprint to Eustace in exchange for power or attention or leverage over Neutron? **

**On another note, I slipped in a reference to Lady Macbeth because I felt it was fitting. My love for writing dark! J/C never ends...**

* * *

_My love has concrete feet  
__My love's an iron ball  
__Wrapped around your ankles  
__Over the waterfall._

_This will be my last confession_  
_'I love you' never felt like any blessing _  
_Whispering like it's a secret _  
_Only to condemn the one who hears it_  
_With a heavy heart._

**_\- Heavy In Your Arms_**

* * *

The accusation comes like a bullet, lodging itself in the crevice of her shoulders.

"I thought you'd changed."

Blonde wisps of hair blow against her face, sheltering her cheeks from the faint sting of tears. Four words. Four damning words.

"It was my fault." He offers, voice low and soft. She doesn't turn to face him. Maybe if she looks out at the city spread out before her long enough, she'll evaporate and disappear into the maze of steel and skyscrapers.

"I let my—attraction get in the way of my work. But never again."

She can picture the indignant expression on his face. And yet, she must say something despite her sudden hatred. The branches are burning all around her. She needs a limb to hang on to. Some resting place for her heavy heart.

"I wouldn't have done it, James." Using his first name is hardly something she's used to, but dire situations call for formal measures.

"I seriously doubt that…Cynthia."

She winces at the sound of that distant name. She's blocked it out of her mind. The mere thought of it, the mere utterance of that cruel name incites some unpleasant memories. Screaming. Crying. Shattered glass. A broken home, a devastated child. He knows about all of this. He'd been the one to piece her back together, the one who'd taken it upon himself to tie up her frayed ends.

She is certain this callous gesture signifies a goodbye of some sort. But if she must drown in guilt, she will drag him along with her. He must bear the weight of her betrayal, just as she must bear the weight of his disappointment.

"I wouldn't have done it if you'd treated me like an equal." She pronounces, throwing caution to the wind.

He takes a few steps towards her, but she heads closer to the ledge. His bloodshot eyes dart towards her bare back.

"I never viewed you as anything less."

Her jaw clenched as he laid a hand across her spine. If only he knew how that perilous pound of blood and pain locked behind her ribs ached, he would retreat and run far far away.

"Spare me, Neutron." She spat. "We've never been equals. Right from the start. You had me pegged as the snide girl. Second best. Silver medalist."

"I had you pegged as _something_, sure. Whatever it was, this wasn't it."

"And what would that be?" She chastises herself internally. She knows what she is. She doesn't need to hear it from him.

"A petty sellout."

He laces his arms up to her collarbone, spinning her around to face him. Her emerald eyes are filled with venom. The poison in her gaze is enough to paralyze him. For all her theatrics, she's better suited to be an actress than a scientist- she looks the part of an innocent flower, but in truth, she is almost always the serpent hidden beneath it.

"I didn't listen to a single person who warned me about you." He brings his hands up to her throat and closes his grip around it softly. She doesn't say a word.

"For the first time in my life I ignored statistically overwhelming evidence in favor of emotion." She closes her eyes as she takes in the implications of his words.

She finally manages to get something out. "I just wanted you to-"

"Please enlighten me." He tips her chin upwards. Her eyelashes flutter innocently.

"I just wanted you to-notice me. I always feel like I'm screaming into a void trying to get your attention."

"So you resorted to your childhood antics and double crossed me at the first sign of difficulty?"

"Maybe if you took some responsibility for once." She suggested bitterly.

A flash of pain shot across his features. "I'll take responsibility this time, Cynthia."

He left a gentle kiss on her forehead and then pulled away completely, putting himself at a distance from her. His blue eyes were an icy well of indifference.

"Loving you was my mistake. A mathematical oversight, perhaps."

With these words, he retires, footsteps echoing against the dusty red brick floor until she can no longer hear them.

She's studied black holes at length, but she's never thought to mimic one. Consuming everything and everyone in her path until nothing remains but emptiness. Emptiness and errant despair.


	4. Lover to Lover

**This was written with two things in mind: March 14th is Jimmy's birthday as confirmed by the creators of the show (Pi day) and March 15th is the infamous Ides of March.**

**I'm sorry, I tried to make this vaguely light but I just have an infinite need to write all the dark!JC.**

* * *

_Going from lover to lover, bed to bed.  
Lover to lover and b__lack to red._

_There's no salvation for me now,_  
_No space among the clouds.  
**-Lover to Lover**_

* * *

Jimmy Neutron's birthday falls on Pi day.

Cindy has never had the insight to get him a gift.  
She has never been one for the gift-giving business anyways, given her general disposition towards him...and mostly everyone, to be honest.

But somehow this year feels different. He's turning twenty one. That must merit something, right?

(Maybe she just needs an excuse to see him)

She has no clue what to get him. None whatsoever.  
His bookshelves are already stacked with guides on part assembly and mechanical engineering and applied calculus. He's got all the equipment he needs from the companies that sponsor his work. For god's sake, he even has a special cake, well..._pie_...sent down every year by his doting mother and slightly unhinged but loving father.

(What can Cindy Vortex offer?)

Truth be told, she's considered just buying him some cheap wine.

(She's not exactly minting money with her BA in English)

He'll let her in, she'll shove the wrapped up bottle into his hands and he'll mutter an awkward thank you.

(She can practically picture every detail in her head)

Pleasantries, talking shop, all of that. Then they'll get the slightest bit tipsy.

(Neither drinks too much because _her_ father was an alcoholic and _he_ can rattle off statistics about the effects of depressants on brain cells. To be specific, his _precious_ brain cells.)

Cindy is a lightweight, so a glass of the stuff will make her feel all floaty. She'll start flirting in that rude, presumptive way of hers.

(Read: calling him _Nerdtron_ and telling him his head's growing too big for his own good. It's all in good fun, right?)

He'll pretend to look a little bewildered but he'll give in after they've exchanged the customary insults.

(_"So, where's that liberal arts education getting you, Dorktex?"_)

She'll offer a few retorts and so will he, and from there onwards, it's pretty clear where the night is headed.

(Her fingers knotted in his hair and his arms resting against her collarbone)

Afterwards, she'll feel like Brutus when her throat burns of thirst and she takes a few more sips of wine and confesses that she's seeing Eustace again.

His eyebrows will furrow in that tense way of his and he'll pretend like it doesn't kill him that his birthday is always followed by the damn betrayal of the Ides of March.

(He definitely has enough of a superiority complex to cast himself as Caesar)

She'll play off his smoldering anger as theatrics and fight off his mildly jealous accusations of her 'thing' for buck toothed men.

("_You may not recall idiot boy Turner, but I do.")_

She'll act like he has no right to her. But she's known for years that he owns her heart.

(Of all the people on this blasted planet, it has to be him.)

Caesar has it easy. Brutus has it the worst.  
She's considered herself one or both of these at some point.  
But she's really Caius Cassius.

(And she _hates_ herself for it.)


	5. Cosmic Love

**I started this months ago and just found it today, edited it, and finished it. I'm not particularly happy with the result, but here it is anyways. Just a heads-up, this series is also probably my last ff work for JN. I love this fandom, but it's barely active anymore, and I'm no longer in that obsessive phase I was a few months ago when JN became extremely important to me again. Of course, I'll always love the show, but I'm not sure how much more I can do with it.**

* * *

_The stars, the moon, they have all been blown out_

_You left me in the dark_

_No dawn, no day, I'm always in this twilight_

_In the shadow of your heart._

**_\- Cosmic Love_**

* * *

"Any drinks, sir?" A trembling air hostess in a blue uniform kneeled down next to him.

"No thank you." He offered her a smile, and the woman nodded and got up to walk away, pulling the curtains behind her so as to give him some time alone.

He looked at the monogrammed velvet blanket on the seat next to him. _James Isaac Neutron. _He'd been an astro-physicist working in a hands-on capacity for NASA for the last few years. He'd just returned from a four month long space voyage. Nothing new for him, given how long he'd been traveling in space. Yet it never failed to amaze him—the infinite and intricate grandeur of the universe's vastness, that was.

This was the only life he'd ever known- this life of sallying among the stars. It hadn't always been an easy life, but it had perpetually been a life of discovery and danger. He'd made sacrifices along the way, notably a good number of his friendships, and a few romantic relationships. Of course, none of these losses was as heart-wrenching as sacrificing his proximity to his parents. He worried about them—but leaving them for months at a stretch without being able to communicate with them was a necessary evil. Or at least, that had been his justification thus far.

He wasn't due to land for another two hours, so he stood up and scanned the titles on the inbuilt bookshelf across from him, hoping to find something he hadn't already read. A dusty old book with a large purple spine caught his eye. On further examination, he determined that it was his high school yearbook. For some reason, it had remained here. It was perhaps the last vestige of his sentimentality.

He extracted it and sat back down, opening it to the senior portraits in the first few pages. Familiar faces stared back up at him. Libby, being a member of the yearbook committee, had made sure tons of photos of the five of them were peppered throughout the pages. There was a photo of the five of them at the Candy Bar on the second page. Carl was eating a double fudge sundae with Sheen laughing to his left. Libby was smiling radiantly, headphones resting besides her long purple fingernails on the table. Not surprisingly, Cindy and him seemed to be embroiled in some argument.

It had been months since he'd last seen Carl, and a year or so since he'd last seen Sheen and Libby. And of course there was _her._..he cleared his throat. It was best not to think of her. A rather painful lump arose in his chest at the mere thought of her. It had been so long, yet he could still recall so vividly her bright emerald eyes, the flash of her smile...

He shook his head reproachfully. Why was he thinking about these things now? Now, when it was too late; when he was so far beyond the point of return?

He flipped to the last few pages to read some of the messages from his classmates. As he turned to the back, a piece of paper came fluttering out. It landed squarely beside his feet, a neat but worn sheathe of yellow legal pad paper folded into fourths. He snatched it up curiously and unfolded it, shocked by his immediate recognition of the shaky penmanship. For the first time in ages, he felt his heart pounding like a drum inside his chest...

* * *

_Dear Jimmy, _

_The written word has always been an ally to me. My pole star, if you will. It may seem silly to someone like you, who is governed by substantial quantities of logic and reason, but I can think of no better way to express my true feelings than to write a letter. __Libby implored me to have this conversation with you in person, but I simply couldn't do it. I know myself too well to possibly allow any extraneous bluntness or anger on my part to bitterly tint what might be some of our last interactions for quite a while. _

_Where do I even begin? I guess I should start...at the beginning, right? You moved to Retroville the summer I turned seven years old. My mother explained to me in no uncertain terms that I should stay on guard at all times, that it was crucial that I maintain my position as the top student at Lindbergh Elementary. As a seven year old, I had no concept of right or wrong. I took what my mother said at face value and disliked you quite openly. Of course it wasn't so that my mother was entirely to blame. I may have been young, but I had fears and dreams of my own. You deeply threatened me when you paraded in with your big head and robot dog one day and toppled the hierarchy that I'd once commanded effortlessly._

_By the age of ten, I was sorely convinced we were tied to each other by an academic rivalry. I had nothing but resentment for your natural genius; your ability to do things that took me hours in mere minutes. And yet, your world intrigued me, your bizarre world of cold machines and screw drivers. _

_This intrigue would slowly evolve into admiration. I watched you build things way beyond any normal eleven year old child's capacity. I watched you soar through space in a tin rocket. I watched you do wild things, endanger the town, and then come up with some brilliant last minute ideas to save us all from your own stupidity. Even though you and I continued to argue, I had begun to realize the arguments were masks, costumes, for some greater theatrical performance, some play of epic proportions. _

_I had also begun to realize that I was a puppet of sorts, controlled by strings my mother pulled, and simultaneously entangled in the strings of some foreign emotion: affection. And so commenced an era of extreme self denial. I did everything in my power to outsmart you, at times, stretching myself to the very limit to appease my mother, and by this point, to appease the inner voice that told me I would never be anything like you. _

_In some ways, that ended up being true. I **am** nothing like you. While skilled in the sciences, my passions lie in the liberal arts. I adore medieval French poetry, Romantic sonnets, sociological analyses of human behavior. In some ways, you might say I came to embrace my clear advantage in the liberal arts when I realized you couldn't write your way out of a paper bag and I would never truly beat you out in physics or mathematics. So it could be said that you drove me to this. _

_But you didn't. You simply amplified my potential by providing me with a grueling challenge. At times, did it get to be to much? Very much so. But was it worth it in the end? I would posit that it was completely worth it. Our arguments, our verbal sparring matches, our misadventures in space and on Earth...they were all very valuable experiences.  
_

_In retrospect, it was our ongoing tension and conflict that fueled each of us to do what we did best. We continually brought out each __other's excellence. The times we had together are times I will always look back on fondly. I hope you feel the same way. _

_I hope you also know by this point that all my insults, all my anger, stemmed from pent up anxiety and some amount of angst. If you must know, I dealt with some incredibly difficult family issues throughout middle school and high school, but that wasn't all. It's hard to say it even now, but if I can't say it now, I never will. _

_I...I love you. _

_It looks so weird on paper. I can barely believe I'm writing those words. It feels like a burden has been lifted off my shoulders. It's just that I've carried this secret with me for so long. It's sad to see it finally out and in the open, but it also feels better than I could have ever imagined. _

_So there you have it. I don't expect you to say it back, or even address it. We can continue fighting like we always do...just as long as we don't stop going at it. It's too much fun not to. _

He stopped there. She'd signed off with _your rival, _but had crossed that out in favor of _your friend. _

_Your friend,  
Cindy Vortex. (Or Dorktex, as you clearly delight in calling me)_

* * *

He sat in his seat, invested with newfound knowledge. He let her words sink in. It had been six years. Six years since he'd last seen her, six years since he'd last argued with her. Of course, he knew she was in New York City, working at some law firm. This information had reached him courtesy of Libby. But he had no idea how she looked, what she was like now, if she had a boyfriend, if she was happier.

He realized with horror that he hadn't really inquired about her much. In the beginning, he would ask Libby to pass him updates, and she would grudgingly agree, but as time went by and he became more and more invested in his career, he'd lost sight of Cindy entirely.

And then there was the guilt. For the first time in a long time, he felt guilt pressing down on him, anchoring him tightly to the ground. Cindy had written this letter to him all those years ago, and he'd never even seen it. She probably assumed he really did hate her, or had come to the ludicrous conclusion that he would simply shove aside her vulnerability like he might flick away a dead fly.

But he _had_ been so, so cruel. He _had _allowed her confession to wither like dust. No wonder Libby always remained at a distance from him when he visited Sheen. It was only reasonable given how much he had probably hurt her best friend.

On top of all of this, there was the revelation that Cindy, _Cindy Vortex_, of all people in the universe had loved him at some point. It seemed nearly impossible, but the absurdity and the wildness of it all was that he knew it to be true deep in his heart.

A singular question burned in his mind, blazing every other thought to ashes.

_Does she still love me?_

He got up and made for the cockpit. There were slight changes to be made.

* * *

Jimmy's palms grew sweaty as the plane's wheels hit the ground. Slowly and steadily, the aircraft came to a complete halt. The hostess gathered his scant luggage. Jimmy had read and reread the letter at least a hundred times in the last hour. He'd committed every word to memory, and yet he still felt like he was missing something hidden behind her looping cursive letters.

Donning his long coat and gloves, he stepped out into the cool night. Shivering, he made his way to the private car waiting for him below. After stowing away his bags, thanking his in-flight assistants, and sitting in the passenger seat, he directed the driver to an address he'd scribbled in his messy scrawl on a napkin.

* * *

He rang the buzzer outside the apartment twice. The first time, he was greeted with a static crackle. The second time, a woman's voice permeated the New York air. "Who the hell is it at this hour?"

He could almost picture her scowl. He smiled to himself, albeit uneasily, and took a deep breath.

"I'm here to deliver a pizza?"

"What?" He could make out the confusion in her voice. "I didn't order- oh what the heck. Bring it up."

The door unlocked and he made his way up the stairs, hands shaking in his pockets. Her door swung open and she gaped at him, dropping the money in her hands.

"You're not the delivery guy."

He examined her for a minute. Her hair was still long and blonde, tied up in its customary ponytail. She was sporting an old band t-shirt and a pair of black and white checkered fleece pajamas. She was taller, and her figure had filled out too. She was no longer the bony, shapeless Cindy of their youth.

"Can I come in?"

"I guess..." She shuffled to the side, still in a state of utter shock. He filed in, shutting the door behind him and gazed around her apartment. For the city, it was pretty spacious.

"So..." Words felt like sandpaper rubbing up against his throat. "How have you been, Cindy?"

Cindy slowly turned to him, eyes turning beady. He gulped. This wasn't good.

Her shock turned into livid anger.

"You return after years and the first thing you ask me is how I am? As if you even bothered, all these years!"

The air was crackling with tension.

"Cindy...I-"

"What could you possibly want? How dare you even have the nerve to show up now?"

"Cindy- if you let me explain- there's been a misunderstanding-"

"How did you even find me?" She rolled her eyes after a second and answered her own question. "Libby, of course. Remind me to kill her later. I told her I never wanted to see you again."

"Maybe you should rethink that?" He offered weakly. She whacked his shoulder hard. "Oww! Vortex- please just listen to me!"

"Why should I, Neutron?" Her voice was tinged with such acrid hatred, he actually considered turning around and leaving. But he knew he couldn't.

"Your letter. I found it tonight. After all these years."

Her mouth contorted into a pale frown.

"What?"

"Your letter. The letter you wrote me senior year. You hid it in my yearbook and I never saw it. Until yesterday." He offered nervously.

She unclenched her fists and looked at him in terror.

He was pretty petrified himself, but he tried his level best not to show it outwardly.

"There was a lot of...heavy stuff in that letter Vortex. I mean...you said you...loved me."

She opened her mouth to say something but shut it again.

"I came back because-I know what I did was horrible...but I honestly didn't have a clue that you left me anything. And I've been so caught up in work since the end of high school. But I-I want to know if it was true...if-if there's any chance it's still true." A tremor gripped his voice.

"Damn it, I wish you were just the pizza guy. That would be so much simpler." She murmured.

"That's all you can say?" He shook his head.

She was barely able to meet his gaze.

"I'm not sure what to say. That was years and years ago, and...things have changed." She pulled out a chair and sat down at the corner of the dining table.

Jimmy nodded sadly. "I know that better than anyone." He admitted, thinking of all the milestones he'd missed. The time forever lost on Earth spent on other planets, in other worlds.

"I'm not sure if it's too late...for us. If we deserve an us. I mean surely, if we were meant to be, you would have kept in touch regardless of whether you read my letter or not, and I would have tried harder."

"You have to understand that I've barely kept in touch with anyone."

Suddenly, the alienation, the years of loneliness, the nagging hole he'd always felt burning in his heart came washing over him like a tidal wave. He had never quite missed the beauty of terrestrial life as much as he had just this moment.

"I know. Sheen and Carl were pretty lost without you around for those first two years. But they moved on in their own ways and clearly you're all still in contact, so that turned out okay."

"Did you move on?" He asked, surprising himself immensely. He wasn't used to asking such straightforward questions, but he sensed there was a time limit on their interactions. There would be closure of some sort tonight, and whether it ended well or not, he found it easier to bare himself to Cindy as he never had had the courage or desire to do before.

Cindy studied the grooves on the wooden table intensely, not willing to dignify his question with a response.

"We were just kids you know. Back then." She sighed. "And kids grow out of things." She added after a momentary pause.

Jimmy's heart sunk for unexplainable reasons. He didn't want to be correct in his assumptions about the path of this conversation. But he could barely say a word, so he just sat back and listened.

"We're not kids anymore, Jimmy." She announced.

He nodded quietly.

"I'm not your neighbor anymore. We don't go on life endangering missions in space. We don't snipe and growl at each other over petty things. We've become adults. And I think- I think if we want to accept that...we have to let whatever this is...whatever it was...we have to let it go."

He hadn't wanted that to be the outcome, but she had every right to say it. And he would eventually come to believe her words.

But now was not that time.

Letting go suddenly seemed like the great obstacle of his life, even though he had spent his entire life slowly letting the people he admired and loved slip out of his reach, as he travelled further and further into the stars. But even he had to accept that continuity wasn't always possible after breakage. Debris could float forever in hollow hearts, but it would never materialize into anything more than wistful pieces of a future lost. And he was damned to cling on to the remaining detritus for as long as his timeline ran parallel hers. Six years seemed nothing to him, but must have been an eternity for her. A blink to one, was a novel to another. It was unsettling how one evening could change everything, and yet change nothing. But perhaps they'd finally reached some sort of equilibrium, and for the time being this was barely enough to tide him over, but it somehow did.


	6. All This And Heaven Too

_And the heart is hard to translate_

_It has a language of its own_

_It talks in tongues and quiet sighs,_

_And prayers and proclamations_

_In the grand days of great men _

_and the smallest of gestures_

_And short shallow gasps._

-**All This And Heaven Too**

* * *

It is the same vision every night. Her dress is the color of blackberries, her lips a dark red, and raindrops are weaved into her knotted hair like tiny beads. She leans against the wooden door, the lines of her face fraught with tension and anger. A string of lights make their way across the walls, emitting a faint glow. It is raining outside and he can hear the downpour pounding against the roof. He has had this dream before…and he will have it again…

* * *

At first, they remain seated, their backs facing each other, a column of air the only thing separating their spines. But soon enough, she's standing and she begins to pace and yell and yell and pace and he just wants her to shut up because his head is bursting with pain but he's troubled by his odd desire to shut her mouth for her. He holds himself back every time, and continues to listen to her ramble on and on through her barrage of insults, and before he knows it, she's said something that cuts deep and he finds himself joining her in the yelling and the pacing and the pacing and the yelling. In retrospect, he can never quite make out what they're on about, but he knows it always ends with her against the back wall, her arms crossed over the corset of her dress in a hostile fashion, her emerald eyes fuming with eternal spite.

* * *

Sometimes there are no candles, but tonight there are, and she looks lovely by candle-light. Her features sharper, her figure more slender. Sometimes she blows out the candles and leaves them in darkness, but tonight she chooses to let them burn.

* * *

She sighs frequently. He wishes she wouldn't, because her mouth looks so beautiful when it curves a certain way.

* * *

Sometimes, she begins to hit him, and screams obscene things over and over. Sometimes she begins to cry and he pats her shoulder awkwardly because they both know he knows about her parents and the agony they inflict on her although they pretend that he doesn't know. Sometimes, she just waits there, offering him variations on a sad gaze that haunts his waking hours.

* * *

Tonight, it is the latter of the three. She has quietened, and she fixes him with a tragic glance, and he's lost for words as usual, but instead of patting her on the back tonight, he places a hand on her neck, smooths back her wet hair, and presses his mouth to hers. Her tears mingle in their lips and he swears he can taste her anguish in each salty droplet. And then suddenly, she's retreating, disappearing, her velvet form receding into thin air, and a sharp pain hits his chest as he wakes up.

* * *

Goddard is on sleep mode at the foot of his bed, and the walls cast shadows. He sits up in the sheets, staring for a moment at the room he's in. _His_ room. Traces of his childhood still remain. He is still sleeping in a bed shaped like a rocket, still waking up to the alarming sounds of a carefully fashioned model of Apollo 11. If he looks hard enough, he can see a three year old boy hunched over blueprints, sketching wildly advanced structures at the desk, or even an a shell-shocked preteen in a suit still reeling from a spontaneous peck in an alleyway.

He is seventeen now, and the world is different somehow. Not because he doesn't love science anymore, because he will always love that flighty mistress. It is not because he is taller now, and his hair is tousled in all the right ways, and he's got loads of admirers simpering over his intellect and his icy blue eyes. No, things are different now because seventeen seems to be the year of the heart and not the head, and he's got it _bad_. He isn't quite sure when he fell for the girl across the street, but he's shaken by the slow but sure revelation that it wasn't an overnight phenomenon. It has been steadily building like a giant wave, and here he was, caught right in the swell.

God, he loves her. The gaunt lines of her jaw, the classically elegant shine of her blonde locks, the wit and banter that come spilling out of her like lava. He loves Cindy Vortex even when she is berating him, and while this perplexes him, it also leaves him wanting to instigate arguments if only to know that she's close.

Yet…he can't help but feel unease at the very thought of love. It isn't quantifiable or easily parsed down into one of his beloved equations. It isn't something he inherently enjoys, and it certainly isn't comprehensible.

He looks out his window, half-covered by his old sheer black curtains. She still lives across from him, and somehow, the street running between them makes it feel like she's far far away, when she's barely less than a minute away. He gets up out of the bed and rests his arm on the window sill. How can he feel like this? He's only just dreamt of her (for what seems like the tenth time this month alone) and she's right there, probably asleep already, while he's sleepless with some odd kind of yearning to be right next to her at this odd time of night. He sighs as a slight breeze whistles through the trees.

He worries about her sometimes. Maybe that's why he's been thinking of her more often. Her family situation isn't exactly….ideal….given the things he's overheard his mother say in passing about Sasha Vortex and her husband. He's inferred that at least some of it is true in the way she carries herself. To most people, she probably looks exactly like herself. But to Jimmy, who finds himself looking at her more than he'd care to admit, she seems overworked and constantly tired. Her whole being emanates longing…maybe for better days.

He's crazy to think about her so much. He doesn't think Cindy's the type to sit around mooning over some boy, she's got more important things to do. And even if she did, hypothetically like some boy, it wouldn't be him. It would be someone more fitting…

He shivers in spite of himself, suddenly realizing his train of thought is once again straying towards a seemingly inescapable fact…he wants to be the boy she's thinking of, and knows he isn't and it makes him wonder what he's doing wrong, and then that thought in turn makes him angry because he doesn't do anything wrong— she's always finding fault with him and picking on him and still somehow has him wrapped around her finger, and then that thought just makes him depressed because he feels powerless against this transcendent, random force…the unspeakable horror that is…love.

Drawing his curtains and heading back to bed, he takes out a notebook from his desk drawer on impulse. Sometimes he gets late night revelations about conjectures and invention calculations. But tonight, he's working out a different sort of problem….

_But with all my education I can't seem to command it_

_And the words are all escaping, and coming back all damaged_

_And I would put them back in poetry if I only knew how_

_I can't seem to understand it._


	7. Hurricane Drunk

**Fair advance warning: this is probably crap. For some reason, I had trouble with the tense (given I've been using present tense for a while now in my fan fiction) and I characterized Betty in the most cliche way possible, but whatever, I tried. I promise the next one will make up for the last three...which have been less than satisfactory in my opinion.**

* * *

_And in the crowd_  
_I see you with someone else,_  
_I brace myself_, c_ause' I know it's going to hurt_  
_But I like to think at least things can't get any worse..._

_\- **Hurricane Drunk**_

* * *

Cindy's breath caught in her throat as she got up out of her seat. Her long pastel green slip dress snagged on the edge of her chair and she huffed under her breath as she straightened herself out. She felt oddly light-headed, but vaguely remembered having drunk at least three glasses of wine. She wasn't drunk, but was starting to feel floaty. She made her way across the room in precise and purposeful movements. A jumble of emotions jangled around in her mind. Neutron looked so good tonight in his fitted suit, and for some reason every word leaving his mouth left her in absolute awe. She'd always known he was intelligent and talented, but she was starting to see him in a new light now, and her childhood crush, the one she'd always buried under miles of doubt and anger and insecurity, had come bounding back with incredible force. He was receiving some award and she barely knew what it was for anymore, and she wasn't sure if she cared, but all she could think was _talktohimtalktohimtalktohimtalktohim. _She thought she was over him, but clearly that wasn't the case, given every time she even glanced in his direction, her heart started pounding like a drum. They hadn't talked much recently and she had been so sure, so damn sure that she'd gotten over him. But now, she just couldn't seem to ignore the voice telling her to find him, to find him and to be with him, to let go of sophomoric stubbornness and old animosities.

* * *

She finally found him him by a table of empty glasses, sharing a drink with a woman in an elegant pink dress. He held the glass by the flute and laughed charmingly, icy blue eyes sparkling. Cindy's heart sunk as she realized who the woman was- none other than the ever bothersome Betty Quinlan. Same mole, same sickeningly sweet voice, same chic bob. She stood in the wings and watched as Jimmy and Betty continued talking softly and giggling.

She wondered if she was reliving the pain of high school all over again, seeing these two together like this. It had hurt back then, and now...now it hurt even more. Back then, she'd christened the girl "Betty Boring" and nearly driven his rocket into oblivion while raging over his indiscrete stash of photos of the witch.

It was disheartening to see them still in contact years later, and it only fueled her fear that at the end of the day, she simply wasn't enough for the kind-hearted genius. True, she was quite capable herself, versatile and quick to learn, skilled in a wide number of activities ranging from the martial arts to writing poetry. But it wasn't that- it was in other areas she lacked.

She was a hurricane of emotions- always thriving on extremities. She could never control her anger at the moments when it mattered most, and her tongue was faster than her heart. She was always filled with jealousy and spite and it spilled over and burned everyone she knew. She was too intense, too cold for someone like Jimmy. Despite being a pompous show off at times, he was really quite sweet and loyal. She was the one who vexed him, drove him insane. She was hardly competent at sweetness- it was really a struggle for her to allow herself to be anything but nasty to him. And when it came to loyalty, she hardly had to think for more than a few seconds before she recalled all the times she'd paraded Eustace Strych in his face, all the times she'd sold him out. Sure, some of those incidents were attempts to get his attention, but even then, Cindy was, summed up in one word, _petty._

But somehow, knowing she was deeply flawed didn't lessen the sting of seeing him with someone who was probably much better for him. Cindy acknowledged her pettiness, fought against it, and hated it and herself, but what she hated more was that it didn't seem to be enough. Maybe he thought of her as an intellectual equal, even if he was loathe to admit it, but he certainly didn't think of her as a friend. Of course, he'd invited her, but that was probably out of a sense of duty or maybe even obligation given their odd history. And then, there was the possibility that he was afraid she would verbally (or physically) pummel him if he didn't extend her an invite. So, there she had it. He was tied to her indefinitely by her wrath, the one real tool she had at her disposal.

* * *

Somewhere between her sixth and seventh glass of wine, she remembered feeling a sudden hatred overcome her. Her drunkenness both shocked and overwhelmed her. When she was younger, she'd sworn off alcohol, seeing the things it made her parents do. But as the years went by, she'd grown into their shoes, using vodka and wine and beer to her advantage. She didn't drink nearly as frequently as them, and would never quite classify herself as an addict, but she was dependent on alcohol to help her forget everything that had once made her life a living hell. It was really quite ironic, her drinking to wipe out memories of years of screaming and shattered glass that had come of...drinking.

* * *

She had cut off all ties with her parents following high school graduation. She'd worked herself silly making sure she got a full scholarship so she wouldn't have to rely on her mother and father's dirty money. She didn't want a cent of the drunkards' undeserved wealth. But here she was, one year into her master's, only a quarter into her thesis, miserable at some stupid award reception, drinking herself to death, and Neutron was still with _her. _Could things get any worse? Her thoughts clouded over slowly, but not before she registered the thought that she was a living, breathing case study for Murphy's Law.

* * *

She went outside after a while, cold and tired and sat with her back to the brick wall. Her self hatred had evolved into a general hatred for the world. But if there was anyone or anything she was filled with absolute loathing for, it was Neutron. As if her life wasn't horrid enough, she had to deal with her highly inconvenient feelings for the utter moron. Of course, he wasn't really a moron, given he was a genius, but he was still a moron in Cindy's hierarchy of emotional intellect.

* * *

The night quickly hit rock bottom as he found her outside. He stood above her, and from his vantage point, she looked completely trashed- not that he wasn't far off from the truth. He'd been looking for her all night, but she'd eluded him. He looked concerned for a moment, his eyes betraying fear and sadness at her state. Even though she couldn't really think straight, in an odd second of clarity, Cindy realized that he was distressed, maybe even worried about her.

He opened his mouth to say something, but Quinlan caught up with him and shot Cindy a disgusting look.

"Why is she here?"

Jimmy pursed his lips and helped her up. Betty stood with her arms over her chest.

"I'm going to get her into a cab."

Betty gave a little snicker to herself.

"Did you really expect much of a _Vortex_?" She turned her nose up in disaste.

Jimmy sent her a sharp look. "Give me a minute, Betty."

* * *

Cindy leaned against him, the world a blur. He felt an odd affection for his childhood rival. He hailed a taxi.

"I really wanted to talk to you tonight, Cindy." He sighed, making sure she was inside. He gave the driver the address on her driver's license.

She gave him a mournful look, and he was reminded of a moment many years ago, on a deserted island, when she'd fixed him with the same look, and it all but left him choked up for some reason or the other, and he felt her slipping away as the window rolled up and the cab rolled away.

He stood transfixed for a moment, reproaching himself for not finding her sooner, for inviting her and neglecting her. The guilt set in before he could even remind himself that things had always been difficult between them.

He wondered if there would come a day when things weren't quite so...painful. When the past didn't drive Cindy to death, when the past didn't tie them down, when the past didn't constrain them and drown them...


	8. Heartlines

**Hi everyone! Wow, I haven't updated this in ages! I'm going through my yearly JN rediscovery phase, so I figured why not make use of it and actually write something? ****I was especially tempted after spending the last few nights reading the archive, so here goes after an entire year! This is my favorite song from the album, so give it a listen and let me know what you think of this!**

**Context: They're teenagers now, and they're momentarily stranded somewhere, so Cindy's mind flashes back to the island.  
Original, right? I tried to give this as happy an ending as possible, since usually, I'm one for dark endings. I'm also not sure if this is a bit OOC towards the end, but oh well, I'm rusty.**

* * *

_On the sea, on the sea and land over land._  
_Creeping and crawling like the sea over sand._  
_Still I follow heartlines on your hand._  
_And there's fantasy, there's fallacy, there's tumbling stone._  
_Echoes of a city that's long overgrown._  
_Your heart is the only place that I call home,_  
_I cannot be returned._

_-**Heartlines**_

The water was the color of his eyes.

She couldn't tear her eyes away from the sight- even for a second. She was mesmerized into paralysis even as the high tide came in with a vengeance. Not too far from where she stood, waves crashed against the jagged black rocks menacingly as the sky bruised violet-red above.

It was quite eerie; something out of a book perhaps. But it reminded her of another day, another ocean, _another time..._

Cindy Vortex had been so young back then. Eleven and a half maybe. Her straight blonde hair had only touched the small of her back, and she wore it in a wet ponytail, bangs swept to the right. She recalled a faded green tank top, frayed khaki capris, a blue hibiscus tucked romantically behind her ear, an oyster shell lodged in her front pocket. And a stealthy carving on a tree...

She was already in love with him back then; before she was even old enough to comprehend the depth of her feelings. God, how she had yearned for him. She'd half expected the feeling to go away with age, but it never did. She tumbled along through the last year of elementary school nursing her embarrassing crush, hoping it would magically disappear, only to have it carry over into middle school and finally high school.

It wasn't that she _chose_ to pine over him- after all, he was by and large _the_ single most annoying person she'd ever had the (dis)pleasure of meeting. He was egotistical, self-righteous and an absolute know it all who loved nothing more than to parade his intellect in everyone's face. Strictly speaking, they didn't get along all that well either, given her sharp tongue and their mutual desire to be at the top (which made for many an argument).

The times they did get along were far and few between, but always _so_ deliciously worth it.

Take for instance, the time they'd spent together on the island. Their little slice of paradise.

At first, they'd been nothing short of downright spiteful, exchanging insults by the mouthful. And then suddenly...they weren't. They were working together-running for their lives hand in hand and then settling down together. Swimming together, eating together, gathering fruit together. On that island, there was a _them_.

A line from a poem Cindy had studied in AP English floated into her thoughts. _Nothing gold can stay._

Indeed that was the case, because before long, there was no more island, and there was no real _them. _Of course, it didn't have to be that way.

Just thinking of it brought tears to her eyes. She remembered herself standing on a shore much like this one, pleading Jimmy to stay. At first, the words had come out so quietly he barely seemed to understand. But soon the shock wore away and a smile occupied his features, melting her heart into a pool of sadness. All the weight that smile held...the potential for an alternate universe...the freedom...the longing...and the realization that none of it could ever be.

It was her first real heartbreak, and nothing had prepared her for it. Not even the stashes of Betty Quinlan photos or her mistreatment by Eustace Strych had brought on this kind of pain. She weakly reached out to him, lips trembling. She understood his choice but she could never claim to support it. His gaze betrayed his deep seated discomfort and his own momentary torment.

Of course, the island, like a host of other memories, had been shoved into the metaphorical attic of their love-hate relationship; forever a relic of what might have been.

_And now, _five years later, she was here, momentarily rooted to the spot as she confronted her reminiscence head on. She would be hard pressed to say that things had really changed all that much. Maybe their time had come and gone, maybe they would get another chance. She would never know, she mused, until it was too late.

She felt a gentle hand on her shoulder. A familiar bolt of electricity ran down her spine, temporarily rendering her speechless.

"I fixed the hover car, Vortex."

She nodded, determined to stick to one word answers. "Great."

"Are you mad at me?" He asked.

That was a loaded question, she supposed, if he wanted a drawn out response. But she knew he was referring to the present, and she couldn't in honesty say she was all that angry. She was more disappointed, if such a thing were applicable, given how low her expectations were.

"Figure it out, Nerdtron. Aren't you supposed to be a genius?" The bitter words slipped out like second nature. She started making her way towards the hover car.

For a moment, he paused in place behind her. She was no longer the awkward, shapeless girl he had known as a child. But her expressions remained the same, and he could tell she was deep in thought; the way her forehead crinkled, the way her lips turned up in a frown, the way her face sparkled with some unidentified emotion.

"Cindy?" He called out her name before he knew what he was doing.

She whipped around questioningly. They shared a knowing glance; sapphire and jade converging in a river of sentiment.

Immediately he was transported to a world in which he had opted to stay and guilt flooded into his throat for a second.

_Never mind,_ he thought, quickly shaking off the regret. _What's done is done._

Besides, he had always known in his heart that they didn't need the island to facilitate what had always been and what would always be.

"Let's go home." He took her hand and guided her into the hover car.

_I'm already home. Home is wherever you are, island or not._

* * *

_What a thing to do…_  
_What a thing to choose…_  
_But know, in some way I'm there with you..._


	9. Spectrum

**I've had this in my drafts for an eternity, but I've never been pleased with any edit of it because it's terrible in my opinion.  
It always feels unfinished and rather...out of character with the JN world for some reason, but here it is, in any case. **

* * *

_When we first came here,_  
_we were cold and we were clear._  
**_\- Spectrum_**

* * *

It was a warm night, quite pleasant for Texas. Cindy had been walking through Retroville, pleased to find that it'd barely changed in the days that had passed.

Hallmarks of her youth jumped out at her from everywhere. As she crossed the Candy Bar and approached her elementary school, an oddly overwhelming feeling overtook her. She supposed it was only reasonable given how the most interesting years of her life had begun in the building in front of her. From there on out, it had been countless afternoons spent in space, and many a recess spent arguing over countries, continents, and the like. She smiled at the memories. After touching her palm to the cold stone of the front steps in pilgrimage, she turned around and headed towards the field.

Endless races had been conducted here, and each time, she'd been crowned the victor. She relished the glory of those vintage triumphs, lost to time. She sat down at the start line, her long legs pulled to her chest protectively. How everything had changed since then. She was no longer the shapeless, barking girl she'd once been. She had evolved into a better version of herself. Her girlhood was a thing of the past…she'd razed it down to pave a path to womanhood. And yet, she'd never felt more like a child in all her life than she felt at this very moment.

Gazing into the distance pensively, she caught sight of a hazy figure. She squinted her eyes to make out who it was, but she could barely discern anything in the new darkness that had slyly settled in. The silhouette seemed to recede for a minute before abruptly changing direction to approach her. She wondered if she should feel afraid, but a calmness had come over her; a calmness the likes of which she'd never felt before.

"Cindy?"

A voice lifted her out of that ephemeral phase of tranquility.

She looked up from her vantage point on the ground at a man she thought she would never see again. On some level, a man she probably never _wanted_ to see again. And yet, in this moment, she realized, it was…perfectly fitting given the mood of the evening. She shook the dust off her shorts and made a motion to get up, but he signaled for her to sit back down, and joined her, shoes lining up with the white lines on the track.

It all came washing back over her. The endless tears, the lonely nights spent staring out her window at a world that somehow seemed incomplete, the emptiness she'd stashed as far away as she'd had the strength to. It was almost as if she'd been submerged in a state of utter illusion and she was finally resurfacing.

"Jimmy Neutron." Her voice was steady, even. No small feat, given her pounding heart.

He let out a nervous laugh.

"No Nerdtron or Spewtron this time around?"

But his attempts at referential humor were thwarted by Cindy's lingering heaviness.

He sat back, hands lying where feet had once ran. They said nothing for a few moments.

"Race me." Cindy looked at him, the lump in her throat threatened to overtake her if she didn't exert herself to some extreme end.

"What?" He looked perplexed.

"Lost your hearing since the last time we saw each other?" She offered a smirk.

"Race you?" His features grew increasingly confused.

"You heard what I said." She jumped to her feet.

He helped himself up to find that he was now a good few inches taller than her. Her golden blonde hair was pulled back into a ponytail, as customary.

"Okay." He didn't know why the words came out of his mouth, but they did.

They both crouched to the rubber, eyes straight ahead. Cindy counted off _3, 2, 1_, time rushing, rushing like a tidal wave. She fired ahead, feeling the metallic air bursting and coming undone with each labored breath she took. He made reasonable headway, but he had never been a match for her athletically. She finished her lap and collapsed on the grass. Seven seconds later, he passed out beside her, heaving from the weight of an eternal contest.

"I won." She stated, voice hollow as the bones of some battered sea-bound bird.

He shook his head. "We lost." As he said it, he recalled a pair of lab-enhanced sneakers that had backfired monstrously; invented in the fifth grade.

"We don't lose. _I_ don't lose." She insisted.

"We let our games hurt people. We let our competitiveness drag us into the grayest areas of moral ambiguity. We let our egos run wild…And you're still on about winning. Worse yet, I indulge you. We lost years ago."

A pregnant pause hung between them as Cindy mulled over his words. She had to admit that there was gravity to them- and that was why they hurt so much.

Nevertheless, there was nothing she wanted more than for him not to have vocalized them. She would give up every single win if it meant they had a chance again, she realized.

"What if," she started, mouth dry, "we called it a draw?"

There was infinite sadness in his robin blue eyes. He looked up at the sky. Neither of them was the type to concede. And maybe in another world, they could both be winners. But this world had its limitations.

"Cindy, you know we'd never be satisfied that way. It's just...not us."

Tears sparkled; blurring her vision, as their history flashed before her like a movie. Years and years of nursing an impossible love had left her weaker than she would have liked. It pained her to see him like this again for the first time in what seemed an eternity; when it seemed he was already pushing for a final goodbye. With each passing second she relived the horror of losing him the first time, and she clung desperately to a future where they could work things out; where this town, with all its power, could egg them towards new beginnings. She hadn't even been aware of how much she craved him until the exact minute he'd come out of the woodwork.

"It can be us." She choked out in a bare whisper. "We could try."

He shook his head. "You're a lawyer aren't you? I've read all about you in the paper. Seen you in a few journals. No doubt you're smart and talented..." a blush rose to his face at the admittance, "but I'm pretty sure you don't even sound convincing to yourself this time around."

"Who _you're_ trying to convince is the real question." She glowered at him.

He shrugged. "The world is better off for us being on our separate paths."

Cindy balked at the statement. It was beyond her how he could just sit there coolly spewing all this philosophical bullshit. Yes, they had been horrible. No doubt about it. But what about when they were _wonderful_? What about the stolen kisses, the laughter, the progress?

"If that's how you want it." She gazed straight ahead at the waning moon. If he had to be reminded of the good, then maybe it wasn't even worth the fight. She didn't have much fight left in her anyways.

"It's not that I don't feel-" He seemed distraught for a minute and cut himself off.

"I get it. Same story as always."

"Care to enlighten me Vortex? Since you so obviously have a full grasp of my every sentiment-"

She sighed, avoiding his piercing stare. "It's not something easy for you."

"Nor you." He shot back immediately.

She hesitated before deciding to give in. "Yes, true, but it's a whole different world for you to navigate."

We're-" She thought better of it and started again. "_It'_s not number or fact driven, and it's absolutely illogical. So you intellectualize it to death in the hopes that you'll push me away."

"Will I?" His register came out softer than intended.

That took no thought. She shook her head. "Try me."

The stars sparkled above them like diamonds.

"I don't want to hurt you." He admitted. It was not by any means an explanation she was willing to take but she gave him the floor.

"The last time we-we went for this, for...us." He gulped. "I broke your heart."

She let out a hoarse laugh. It was her turn to feel uncomfortable.

"I can't stand to do it again and I-"

"Oh spare me the theatrics, the performing arts was never your strong suit."

He looked like he wanted to say something in retort but stopped himself, choosing instead to play with his watch. She observed him silently for a second, soaking in his presence; his floppy chocolate brown hair, his toned shoulders, his intelligent air. She took a deep breath and shut all the caustic comments out of her head until she felt the clarity return with a start.

"The question, as it stands," Her voice shook, but she continued bravely, "is whether or not we can move forward."

_"So what's it going to be, James?"_

* * *

_We are shining and we will never be afraid again._


	10. Seven Devils

**_And here we have some more dark!JC...aka what I live for. As usual this feels unfinished, but whatever, I tried._**

* * *

_And now all your love will be exorcised_  
_And we will find you saints to be canonized.  
_  
-_**Seven Devils**_

* * *

There were nightmares and then there were nightmares.

For three nights straight, he'd been plagued with them. The only way to evade them was to lay awake as an insomniac might, snapping himself to attention if his eyelids so much as shut a centimeter. But the lack of rest was taking a serious toll on him. There was only so much he could handle.

The days wore on and he grew less patient. He snapped at his friends, was extremely caustic towards Cindy (more so than usual), and worked himself to the bone to distract himself from the fatigue. As it got worse and worse, he finally succumbed to slumber while drawing blueprints in the lab on a hazy afternoon. Exhausted, he yielded to the horrific pang of the night terrors...

* * *

As it so happened, Cindy was often the star of these dreams.

Cindy wrapped in a cloak, her pale skin glowing, her serpent like eyes sparkling a mean hue of emerald. There was an ethereal beauty to her...something untouchable. Her golden hair, stick straight and long as ever, draped down her back elegantly; held back only by a pair of crossing pins. Her nose was sharper, her lips darker, her figure fuller.

The mere sight of her sent him into an emotional frenzy. Her gaze pierced him mercilessly, and there seemed to be no escape. The absolutely dreadful thing was that he wasn't sure he wanted to escape, as scary as she looked. Like a siren, she beckoned him, tempted him towards her, and he had no choice but to give in.

He drew closer against his better judgement, noting the self satisfied smirk on her face.  
She faced him and tipped his chin upwards with a single manicured nail.

"What's the matter, Neutron? Trying to steer clear of me?" Her usual barking tone had evolved into some kind of sultry hellscape of its own, he noted.

_Like that was even possible. _

He didn't say anything, and he didn't push her away as he might have one time or another. Now- everything was different now.

"What are you doing?" She sneered. She finally let go of her one hand hold on him.

"I don't know anymore." He admitted. "I wish I did."

She let out a laugh that sent a shiver of chills down his spine.

"No more tin rockets, boy genius? No more play time in the lab?"

"I'm not a _toy maker_, Vortex." He puffed his chest in indignation. He still had a sliver of pride left.

"Funny, I seem to recall you were at one point." She arched her eyebrows and smiled. "A little bit of fun-demonium is a given with you running around Retroville."

"What do you want from me, Cindy?" He grew exasperated by the minute.

"You tell _me_ what else I could possibly want." She sniggered and gestured around her as the landscape grew frighteningly dark.

The palette of colors that gave his life its beauty and structure had disappeared. As had every trace of his intellect. No inventions. No metal, no hammer, no circuits. No Goddard. Nothing but raving desperation.

"Without your giant head, you're just like the rest of us." She spat. "How does it feel to be normal?"

He reached out to touch her hand but she pulled back in disgust.

"Cindy-please-"

Scenes of a life spent in mediocrity flashed before him. He was sitting at Cindy's desk, test after unsatisfactory test in a heap in front of him, eyes red from the tears she'd cried each night as her mother berated her over her inability to beat a wunderkind. And then Carl trudging along, hurt on each new expedition, Sheen constantly electrocuted and called an idiot.

As soon as they'd come, the images dissipated into thin air.

"Why?" It was all he could say not to fall to his feet.

"I want to see you suffer averageness."

"Do you really hate me that much?"

"If only I could merely hate you." She shook her head, a twinge of sadness making its way into her tone. "No I-_loathe_ you. Getting by on your luck of the draw brilliance while the rest of us abide our normalcy like a curse. "

* * *

He woke up in a cold sweat. That she demon would ruin his life if he let her. She would take everything he held dear and burn it to ashes. It wasn't safe to love her, it just wasn't. She was jealous of him, that much had always been clear. There was no doubt that one day she would drag his heart through a pulverizer, smoke him out. She already had him good, and there was hardly anything he could do to stop himself from engaging in their usual banter. There was a magnetic pull drawing him to her- like a moth to flame.

* * *

Later, on his way to school, he saw her sporting her customary swishy ponytail. When she noticed him she did a double take.

"Whoa there, Hyde. What's wrong with you?"

"None of your concern." He remarked snidely, pushing past her.

She was persistent. "Did it finally happen? You spent so much time holed up in that lab that you turned into a ghost? Because you look like one."

"Lay off, Cindy."

"What's your problem, Freaktron?"

He stared at her for a cold, hard minute.

"You are." He retreated leaving her with a bewildered expression frozen on her face.

* * *

_They can keep me out_  
_'Til I tear the walls_  
_'Til I save your heart_  
_And to take your soul_  
_For what has been done_  
_Cannot be undone._


End file.
